All Over
by Ruby-Moon507
Summary: It began when I was younger than I am now, and considering im still relatively young I suppose you can say I haven’t changed. SetoJou SetoxJou SetoxJoey SxJ
1. Life

YuGiOh is not owned by me… if it was I would be rich and YGO would be on late night T.V

Chapter 1: Life

It began when I was younger than I am now, and considering im still relatively young I suppose you can say I haven't changed. Im still growing and learning new things... and this is one of them...

Life, is never what you want it to be.

I sometimes find it the most amusing thing in the world, faced day to day with the most excruciating pain I could ever imagine… ever… and it isn't even remotely different from day to day. Ive tried, I really have, just tried so damn hard and im so damn tired all the time, like ive been on drugs and decided to go cold turkey… I crave it, even if he beats me at least he's touching me. The only family I have left… and he hates every single bone in my body… hell… every single atom.

Every single breath I draw is like fire in my lungs, like the fire that took her from me. I curse myself day in day out for not being there for her. She needed me and I wasn't there, trust dad to run out as soon as he saw the smoke, not even caring that she was trapped in her room, blind and helpless, as I came up the street I saw the flames began to run, dropped the groceries and flew up the steps only to be held back by a fireman who thought he knew best.

I remember screaming and not much else, except for when I woke up in the hospital, 'that' I remember all to well.

--

Light streamed in through half open eyes which immediately closed again. He felt stiff, unable to move without hurting somewhere on his person.

"oh! Your awake honey!"

The light dimmed somewhat and he opened his eyes, a woman in her early twenties stood before him a bright cheery smile on her face. Her eyes widened with her grin when his eyes opened fully.

"My, what pretty eyes you've got there!" she smiled cutely a dark brown bang hanging freely when she tilted her head.

"th- the better ta see you with miss"

Her eyes opened wide with shock before she giggled "I think im a little old for you honey, but thanks for the compliment"

Two seconds of silence passed before Jou suddenly sat up "where is she? Where's my sister?" He could feel the panic rising in his chest worry eating away at the little strength he had left.

She blinked and her eyes filled with sudden worry "what's your sisters name?"

"Shizuka…" he swallowed past the lump in his throat "Jonouchi Shizuka"

"I'll find her for you okay? Stay here!"

'I promise I'll find her'

--

She left me sitting there until my father came and dragged me away saying I was better and he wasn't going to start paying bills. We moved and for the whole time we drove he never offered a single word of comfort, knowing his only daughter was going to be buried in a grave I would never see, at least I managed to tell someone her name, I just hope they gave it to the right body.

Dad didn't even want to touch me till we moved into our new home… then he touched me too often and too much, I didn't want to admit to myself that I knew it was wrong… but inside I knew it was. It was the only comfort I had though, the only apology I ever received… if you can call it that.

If the screaming back pain and the dryness of my throat weren't enough to convince me then the belt was, the endless guilt was, my failing grades were, my friends finally seeing my father for who he truly was but never knowing the full horror of my story… How many times has Honda told me 'I got your back' or Anzu said that 'we're all in this together guys' or Yugi… how many times has he and his other half… the Pharaoh guy told me that I need to continue fighting? That I need to believe in myself to carry on… and it aint about duelling this is 'life' and the same rules apply.

So I decided to leave.

So I did…

Maybe that's why im standing here, knowing he's probably looking into a screen over his desk, fingers laced together under his chin watching me. He's the only person I can go to, no one else has enough room and its not as if I want to bother them anyway, its 2:30 in the morning and there all probably sleeping. I don't want to stop them from sleeping... hell... even the gangs aren't out cos its so late, they are all sleeping in their homes under sheets which are probably better than any ive had the fortune to see... they can sleep...

Not him though… never him.

Im biting my lip, fist raised to knock before the door swings open and he's standing there, in all his ice prince splendour looking down on me like the drab water logged puppy that ive always been.

I met his eyes for a second before lowering mine, holding tightly to my rucksack, knuckles turning white. He stares for what seems like an eternity, merely a single heartbeat of time but the simple fact that he hasn't told me to leave or slammed the door in my face is a good thing, tells me he's considering it. If he tells me to leave I will, I only came here for one reason and that's all, to see him, even if its for the last time.

I feel his eyes burn across my cheek and the fresh cut that follows my jaw line and he sighs, a disbelieving guilt laden I-know-your-story sigh

"If you want to stay just say so… and close the door behind you mutt, I don't want the cold getting in"

My eyes close and I feel a sigh fall from my lips, my muscles relaxing immediately, his voice is the richest, deepest, most beautiful ive ever encountered I could die like this and be forever happy, just to know that he wasn't being horrible to me that time, the dog joke affectionately posed but not said so… there's still a problem though.

"I cant"

He stops on the third step and looks across at me, eyes slightly wide at my tone, I know what it sounds like, dead and broken, dusty and rattling in my throat.

"what do you mean, you cant?"

"I'll bleed all over your carpet…"

He turns fully as I begin to fall.

I never manage to hit the floor.

Thank-you for reading the first chapter of All Over… I hope to update soon. R&R please! Arigato


	2. Has No Meaning

Thanks to the two people who reviewed the last chapter, I will carry on but be prepared for updates.

This story will be slow in coming or deleted completely and re-written if I don't get many more reviews… ive had so many people visit my story but not read it ;; (cries)

Chapter 2: Has No Meaning

It has never, ever, been a question of loyalty… though it may have been considered or contemplated from time to time. The question as to why he always came back, why he even bothered-

He told me I needed friends my own age, not CEO's and representatives for other gaming industries and minor companies. That my brother needed to be taken out for fun once in awhile, instead of being subject to my every whim and taking on so much responsibility, so I agreed.

Agreed to let him take Mokuba out, agreed that I would come with them, as soon as it was said the insults stopped, the temper tantrums receded and I began to realise what he meant. He had meant for him and I to become friends… I had been sitting on the green bench under the oak tree when it hit me.

I had looked up and there he was directly in my line of sight, kicking the ball Mokuba had insisted they play with so far away that Jou ran after the boy to make sure he didn't get into any trouble. As they disappeared I began to wonder, about him, about why he was doing this for _me_. I always used to wonder as to why I hated him so, now im wondering about why my attitude has changed, why I only now begin to see what has been there all along.

I looked at my watch realising that a few minutes had passed… I began to fidget then began to worry when I realised five minutes had passed. When I heard Mokuba's wailing I didn't think of anything else, I just ran finding him lying on the ground nursing what looked to be a sprained ankle.

Upon threatening the mutt with murder I was forcefully told to 'shut my mouth' Mokuba looking up at me with such hate in his eyes that it took me a few moments to realise he was speaking to me. His eyes glazed and tears streaming down his face.

"-did this"

"Who kiddo?"

"HIS FATHER DID THIS!" Mokuba swallowed and bowed his head, "Jou told him to leave me alone, that he'd get into trouble if anything happened to me… he just picked Jou up like he weighed nothing… took him away like he weighed nothing… he hit me…"

I took him home, and that night as Mokuba slept next to me I accessed Domino's Police and Hospital mainframe, printing out any data sheets of Jounochi I could find. Three times I had to feed the printer with extra paper, each police file seeming longer than the last, one divorce paper, family descriptions, physicals of young Katsuya, pictures of him and his class, one taken for each year of his school life.

He was a rather adorable child, with sparkling eyes and what looked to be soft golden hair, as soon as he entered high school everything changed, his eyes dimmed his hair was messy, unkempt and dirty, his clothes seemed to hang off a frame that until one year ago had been that of a healthy pre-teen.

It was then I realised something was wrong, something that had been so glaringly wrong all these years. I hadn't bothered to notice it because of who he was, because of what he was.

He was Jounochi Katsuya, age 16 born on January 25, and three inches shorter than my 6"1' in height. Being born two years before him and adopted into a much higher society I obviously had never thought of him as anything but someone I could criticize… now I knew better, his whole history was unravelling before my eyes and I could barely contain myself from fleeing the room, begging any employee to take those files I printed and burying them… burning them anything that would erase them from this world. They were bringing up memories I wished I never had the misfortune of receiving.

Yet here he was, living life as if none of this had affected him at all, as if he was a normal child, still acting like the kid he probably still wished he was, still acting like that eleven year old that died during the summer holidays that year he was brutally forced to grow up.

The year I grew up.

The next day he came in as bright as ever, apologising to me when I asked why he left. The smile didn't reach his eyes, he nursed his left leg that day stepping lightly as he walked. Quiet and subservient to all who opposed him. Hirito stood next to him as they left class, demanding something. Jounochi shaking his head and sighing before running to catch up with the rest of his friends.

So he's told one person, doubtless many others must know or have suspicions of the happenings between father and son… but I knew from experience that is was very likely that nothing would happen to stop it. At least Hirito knew.

So why, if his best friend was there to support him… Did he come to me?

This I ponder as I sit in this darkened room, staying way beyond visiting hours. The light blips on the monitor driving me practically insane in the dead quiet. Yet they are oddly reassuring, I know if they were to stop I would never be able to forgive myself. I vaguely hear the conversations of the passing doctors and nurses, faint cries of a child down the corridor.

He is pale, face drawn looking so fragile as his hair brushes his cheek, skin that was slick with sweat and a body that was shaking uncontrollably only hours ago. Only a few hours ago, before putting a foot on my doorstep I took for granted his existence from day to day though recently I had -against my better wishes- been concerned over his safety. I hadn't thought of what I would do if he left, if he wasn't there the next day. It seems that the old saying is true, I didn't know what I had till it was gone.

He isn't, but it could go either way at this point in time, as long as he makes it through the first twenty-four hours im sure he'll pull through. Though I cannot dwell on that thought for to long, for some reason I find it too painful. He almost looks as if he's sleeping now, the bruises on his face do not mar his features but accentuate them, high cheekbones and regardless of the beatings he's received baby soft skin.

I reach out to touch him, reach out to brush soft bangs from his face, to touch his skin, to ensure that he is still here. That he needs to be here. If not for the glaringly obvious fact he is my total opposite but for the fact that Mokuba needs him, and if not… For me, for myself and nobody else. I need him here, an anchor to reality that I thought nothing of until a few weeks past.

I think of how hard he's tried to retain that normality and my body shakes quietly as his eyes move beneath that thin veil of skin, that veil that nobody has pierced through so far, that I have only managed to glimpse past.

Thanks to the book in my lap.

I look down and thumb a few pages before closing the leather bound book, on the front in tarnished gold is the name Katsuya Jounochi. It is moderately expensive, and inside is a small title "Book The Fifth – The Last Year"

_-__ It began when I was younger than I am now, and considering im still relatively young I suppose you can say I haven't changed. Im still growing and learning new things... and this is one of them... _

_Life, is never what you want it to be. _

_I sometimes find it the most amusing thing in the world, faced day to day with the most excruciating pain I could ever imagine… ever… and it isn't even remotely different from day to day. Ive tried, I really have, just tried so damn hard and im so damn tired all the time, like ive been on drugs and decided to go cold turkey… I crave it, even if he beats me at least he's touching me. The only family I have left… and he hates every single bone in my body… hell… every single atom._

_I know there are people suffering worse… unable to go to school or even wear clothes, unable to eat as well as I do (if scarfing down one meal a day is supposed to be good) so I guess im lucky in a way, I still have family whereas **he** has none… save for Moku.-_

I suppose I find it too painful to read, for that is where I stop, not bothering to notice that the pages were written upon with immense care, as if the book would break if put under any pressure, or possibly to minimize the sound of pen against paper. I know he writes about me, three pages dedicated to my statistics alone, newspaper clippings drawn on and sometimes defaced. I have become an obsession of his, a dream to defeat. All that taunting from me and the suffering in his life had its outlet here, it's a small wonder that he's remained as sane as she is now.

Either way his writing is neater than I have ever seen it, joined and slanted slightly. In some places he writes in different languages to emphasise a point.

'_this is not a life… I cannot call this living'_

_Life has no meaning without you here with me. _

_Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone._

_Without you here life is not what I call living._

_Are you coming closer? Living day to day_

_Seeing the look on my face as you discover_

_The hidden part of me._

_With you here, I don't feel so lonely _–

Any reviews will be appreciated and will convince me to update quicker so myb audience will not get mad at me, as you can see im making some changes and adding bits. The poem above is one I wrote myself (not very good)

**MESSAGE to FullMetal Alchemist fans! **I have a story called Always… a collection of drabbles, im up to two so far and will be updating with my third soon… any requests? Send them in! xXx


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